


you've built bigger bridges

by emrys (livingshitpost)



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dead People, Día de los Muertos | Day of the Dead, Family, Family Reunions, Gen, Ghosts, Headcanon, Inspired By Tumblr, Miguel Rivera Sees Ghosts, No Incest, Not Really Character Death, Post-Canon, Reunions, Spirits, Talking To Dead People
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-24 07:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18566998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livingshitpost/pseuds/emrys
Summary: "I wish I could hug you again.""You will."





	you've built bigger bridges

The petals were solid beneath his feet. They glowed, making soft shimmering sounds, as he and his family made their way across to the Land of the Living. His daughter was chatting excitedly with her husband and their own daughter, laughing as she hadn't been able to in years.

"Oh, Papá!" She turned back to him as they crossed the threshold into the graveyard. "I can't wait for you to taste Elena's tamales; I taught her how to make them myself, but she adds something (I can't remember what) and it gives them this sweetness . . . "

He smiled, listening intently, even as he marveled at how much his hometown had changed since he'd left. The cemetery had grown, of course, after nearly a hundred years of births and deaths. There were more people, and more houses for them to live in, and more stores, and everything was brightly lit in all different colors. But the plaza was nearly the same. A gazebo in the center, all sorts of little storefronts on the sides, and a copper statue of Ernesto de la Cruz that he did his best to ignore (though he was glad to see that someone had defaced it). 

His home was recognizable, if he squinted. It was bigger, of course, now housing thirteen people rather than three, and clearly read  _Rivera Familia de Zapateros - Desde 1921_ on the front. The petals continued to shine when the dead kicked them up as they walked.

Coco excitedly "introduced" him to their living family, explaining who they were in relation to him and what they were like. But she stopped to snap her fingers when he clearly lost focus, staring at the young boy holding his baby sister.

"Hm?"

"Papá, are you okay?"

A beat passed, and then he nodded, smiling. "You must've been a really great mamá to have had a family this big," he said with a laugh.

She pursed her bony lips. "I know you met Miguel," she said softly. "I miss him too. But we'll talk to him again someday, okay?"

He waved a hand. "It's not that. Just- Don't worry about it."

"Papá, come on-"

"Ooh, Elena just set out her tamales! ¡ _Vamos, niñita_!" 

* * *

As they continued into the night, there was a moment where he found himself alone in the ofrenda room. He picked up the photo of Coco, which turned orange and ghostly in his hands, and examined her old, wrinkled face, with the same delightful smile she'd had as a little girl. He smiled back at her as he put it down.

Someone stepped in behind him. There was no glow, so he knew it was one of the living. He didn't say anything.

"She was happy," they said. "And the best  _bisabuela_ any kid could ask for."

He straightened slightly and turned toward the person beside him. Miguel was looking at the photo of Coco, but then glanced up at his great-great-grandpa from the corner of his eye with a smile.

"It's good to see you, Papá Héctor. I was kinda worried I didn't make it in time."

Héctor laughed. "Ay, kid. Why am I not surprised?"

"You're not surprised I can talk to dead people?"

"You nearly died,  _chamaco_. I think you're lucky you're on this side of the bridge at all."

The two of them fell into comfortable silence. Benny and Manny shrieked with laughter outside, and there was a clash of brass.

"I was worried about you, too," Héctor admitted. "But as more and more time passed, and you didn't show up there, I kinda figured you were okay." He put his hands in his pockets. "And I'm kinda glad you can see me."

"All of you, actually."

"Really? Even-"

"Yeah, even Mamá Coco. I don't know if I should tell her, though. She started seeing things right before she died, so she might think it's that, or something. I don't wanna upset her."

"She misses you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. She'd love to talk to you again."

Miguel smiled. "I don't know. It feels . . . wrong. Even  _this_ feels wrong, and we've done it before. I mean, kinda."

"On the other side."

"Yeah, exactly."

Héctor sighed. "I don't know what to tell you, kid. But, you know we love you, right?"

"Of course."

"And you know I'm proud of you."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I know."

"Then I think that's all that matters, huh?"

"I mean, I guess."

"Hey, Imelda picked up the piano."

"No way, really?"

"Mhm. She's getting really good, too. Not quite as good as her singing, but still good. You should hear her."

"I hope so."

Héctor cast a sideward glance at the boy beside him. "Something wrong?"

Miguel shrugged. "I dunno."

"C'mon, you can tell me. Two can keep a secret if one of 'em's dead."

He laughed at that. Bit his lip. Sighed. "I've wanted to be a musician since I was a kid," he said softly. "But all that time, I was looking up to the wrong man."

"That's not your fault."

"I know. But it leaves a bad taste in my mouth." Another sigh. "Papá Héctor, would it be okay if, after I made it big, I did covers of your songs? Like, the way _you_ wrote them? And I told the stories behind them?"

Héctor smiled. "I'd be honored, Miguel."

A soft sort of laugh blossomed from the boy's chest, a combination of nerves and relief. "I wish I could hug you again."

"You will,  _niño_."

 


End file.
